All That I Know Is I'm Breathing
by Livin4Jesus
Summary: He was taken. Despite his best efforts, regardless of any precautions, they took him. They knocked him out, threw him in a car, and disappeared with him. They never beat him or whipped him or cut him or any other harm of that nature. No, the torture they decided on was of a different, and much longer-lasting, kind. Warning: Unwilling drug abuse and withdrawal. No Slash.
1. All That I Know Is I'm Breathing

**A/N I'm not real sure where this came from. I'm obsessed with _Forever_ right now and I kept thinking, if Henry can't die, then death doesn't scare him. So what can scare him? What can hurt him that death wouldn't fix? This is what came out. **

**Warning: Unwilling drug abuse and descriptions of withdrawal. **

**All That I Know Is I'm Breathing **

He was taken. Despite his best efforts, regardless of any precautions, they took him. They knocked him out, threw him in a car, and disappeared with him.

When he came to, he was bound to a cold metal table which would be where he would remain for the duration of his captivity.

They didn't ask or demand anything from him and they barely spoke despite his attempts to get them to. The only reason they had him was to hurt him, nothing more, nothing less. They wanted revenge, simple as that.

They never beat him or whipped him or cut him or any other harm of that nature. No, the torture they decided on was of a different, and much longer-lasting, kind.

They pressed the needles into the crook of his elbow as they forced the vile liquid into his veins, letting it race through his bloodstream until it carried his mind far away and disconnected him from reality.

Day after day, they did so until he spent more time floating in the bright colors and sounds and less time in the real world.

A week passed, although he had no way of knowing as time became a slick and thin substance that slipped through the cracks in his mind and dissolved away with reality. He was finally found as the police stormed in and rescued him. But by then it was much too late.

His mind was already a slave to the liquid.

It was some hours after his rescue before his mind found reality again as the liquid finally worked its way through his system. Once it did, lucidity returned and, at first, he felt fine, normal even, but eventually that changed. Reality, which had been so long ignored, decided to punish him for it as it slammed into him with a jolting crash that this time wasn't prevented by another routine injection.

He retreated to his lab beneath the shop where he hoped to ride out the worst if it in sequestered solitude. The world would never have to know how badly he had been affected, how far he had fallen. They would never have to know how low a simple syringe of liquid had managed to bring him.

At first, it was manageable. He was just jittery and restless. But then it worsened until nothing could keep his attention and he couldn't sit still for very long. Then his mind began to stray to thoughts of the liquid as the craving began to set in. It was distracting and uncomfortable as his arms tingled and his gaze kept returning to the puncture marks in the crooks of his elbows. But it was... bearable.

Then the pain hit. So strong and all-encompassing as to eventually drive him to his knees in the middle of the room. His hair was damp with the sweat that ran down his face and his breathing turned into labored pants. His vision blurred slightly and reality threatened to slip out of focus. But not in the way it did with the liquid. The liquid took away pain and left him floating and content. This time, reality threatened to abandon him to every nightmare and demon his mind possessed as the pain continued to rage through him.

He gripped his forearm tightly and roughly rubbed his hand up and down the sensitive skin in a fast, almost manic way.

It felt like ants were crawling over his arms. His blood was on fire and his veins cried out with every beat of his heart. He clawed and scratched at his forearms until red blossomed with every drag of his fingernails over the poor, abused flesh.

It hurt. It stung. But he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop.

His hands trembled and his shoulders shook as he drew in quick, shuddering breaths. He couldn't get enough air. He couldn't quench the fire flooding his veins.

He felt the hot sting of tears behind his eyes. He didn't know if they were tears of pain, hopelessness, or desperation. He didn't really care.

He had died many times in his life, felt varying levels of pain, and yet, he had never gone through something like this. He had never felt so helpless or endured such agony for so long. It wouldn't end. All other physical pain in his life always ended. But this stayed, consuming him. His body was rebelling against itself and not even death would fix it this time.

Death only reset his body, not his mind, and it was his mind that insisted on torturing him. His mind screamed and cried out for the poison it had become so dependent on, and with every moment that he denied his mind what it craved, it punished him more.

He couldn't go back to the drugs, to the mindless stupor and lack of control over his own life. He couldn't. But he couldn't endure this either. He couldn't take it. He needed relief. He needed respite. He needed...

A hand appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his, halting the frantic tearing of his arms. He looked up to see Abe crouched next to him. He had been so wrapped up in his torture he hadn't noticed the other man's approach.

Henry looked at Abe, his red-rimmed and tortured eyes begging for help as he grasped the hand holding his, with a vice-like grip.

"Kill me. Please," Henry whispered breathlessly.

Abe's eyes filled with such sorrow and pain at seeing the man who had raised him in such agony.

"You, yourself, said it wouldn't help," Abe said softly as he placed a hand on Henry's shaking back.

"I... I can't," Henry whispered, his voice breaking as a few tears slipped from his eyes.

He wasn't sure what he 'couldn't.' Couldn't take it anymore? Couldn't survive? Couldn't hold out any longer?

Yes.

And yet, he couldn't take the drugs again. He couldn't die. He couldn't...

He just couldn't.

"Yes, you can," Abe murmured, tightening his grip on the bloody hand that was itching to start clawing at Henry's arm again.

Henry returned the grip just as tightly. It was the only thing keeping him grounded. Abe was the only thing keeping him grounded.

As if Henry's body could no longer support itself, he found himself leaning against Abe, his forehead resting against Abe's shoulder as he struggled to keep breathing. He hadn't realized he had reached up with his free hand to grab a handful of Abe's shirt until he had already done it.

He was trying to hold on. Hold on to reality, hold on to sanity... just hold on for dear life.

He shuddered and trembled in pain and exhaustion as he leaned against Abe and felt a strong arm wrap around his shoulders and hold him tightly.

He had no way of knowing how long they were crouched on the floor like that. All sense of time had left him long ago. All that remained was the pain, the _need_. That, and the calm, steady rise and fall of the chest beneath his head.

Henry focused on every breath and tried to match his own shaky ones to them. His mind retreated into itself, seeking some safety, some reprieve from the agony, until the steady breathing was all that remained in his awareness.

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><p><strong>AN Please let me know what you think. :)**


	2. It's The Poison

**A/N So originally this was supposed to be only a one-shot but then all of the wonderful reviews I got from you guys sparked some inspiration and this short segment came out. This should be the last chapter. **

**Thank you so much to everyone who did review. I didn't have a chance to respond individually but I did read and love every one that I got! :)**

**On a side note, if any of you are _Avengers_ fans, you might be interested to know that I wrote a _Forever_ themed chapter for my story _It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time_. It's chapter 65 if you want to give it a try. :)**

**It's The Poison Running Through Your Blood**

It was easy to forget that, despite his immortality, Henry wasn't invincible. Perhaps that was why it was so hard for Abe to accept seeing him in such agony.

For so long, Henry had seemed so untouchable. Even when he died, it didn't really affect him much. All of Abe's life, Henry had been a strong, but quiet, force to be reckoned with. And just like any child, Abe had always looked up to the man who raised him, even more so when his father proved to be almost hero-like in his inability to age or permanently die.

As Abe grew older, he knew his father wasn't some superhero, but even now, decades later, Abe still had trouble thinking of Henry as human, as able to be hurt. Henry was always untouchable. He _should_ be untouchable.

He shouldn't be shaking and crying and frantically tearing into his forearms as he knelt on the floor, no longer possessing the strength to even stand. He shouldn't be hurting so. He shouldn't be so helpless, so vulnerable, so... normal.

To see someone so unbreakable brought down by something that affected any normal person seemed wrong somehow. Henry was anything but normal, he shouldn't be able to be broken by something so ordinary.

It physically hurt to see Henry suffering and be unable to do anything about it. It had been a small mercy when Henry had passed out, leaning against Abe some hours before.

Unfortunately, that reprieve had been nothing but short lived as Henry's body rebelled against him, even refusing to let him have the haven of unconsciousness for very long.

Abe didn't leave his side throughout the horrible night that was full of pain, vomiting, and hallucinations. Abe wasn't sure which was worse, when Henry, in his delirious state, desperately cried out for him or when he called for Abigail. No amount of soothing words or gentle touches could seem to break through to Henry's fevered mind but Abe spoke and held him nonetheless.

It was a strange thing how their roles seemed so reversed now. In the grand scheme of things, it hadn't been all that many years since Henry had been the comforter and protector, and still he tried to be, but the older Abe got the more they had had to pretend for the world's sake and the more they had started to take on those personas, until Abe was more and more worrying about and caring for Henry instead of the other way around.

The older Abe got, the more he dreaded the time when he would be gone. Not for himself, but for Henry. The centuries old man had suffered so much loss in his long life and it was only inevitable that there would be more. Although he didn't express it often, Abe loved Henry with all his heart. No matter how old, or not, either of them got, Henry would always be Abe's father and Abe would love and care for him as long as possible.

The hours spent in Henry's lab as he detoxed seemed to stretch on forever. His moments of lucidity were few and far between as he writhed, cried out, and suffered both mentally and physically. In Henry's long life, he had never taken drugs of any kind. He had always been wiser than that. This addiction had been forced upon him, but sadly, the body didn't differentiate between willing and unwilling dependence.

Abe kept watching the clock as the minutes and hours ticked by. He was waiting for dawn, although he wasn't sure why. Withdrawal didn't have a timetable. This wouldn't just stop with the rising of the sun. And yet, Abe still found himself waiting for the sun to come up. Somehow things never seemed quite so bad in the light of day. The sun didn't bring some magic fix-all when it rose but it did bring _something_ with it. Something that got many people through many terrible things.

It brought hope.

As Abe gently ran the damp cloth over Henry's fevered face, he found himself in desperate need for some hope.

He turned to look at the clock again as it ticked away another minute, signaling yet another hour closer to dawn.

"Another hour closer to hope," Abe murmured, gripping his father's hand tightly and wishing, for the first time in years, that time would move faster.

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><p><strong>AN Any good? Please let me know! :)**


	3. Sinking Like Stone

**A/N So this was only ever supposed to be a one-shot but then you guys had to keep inspiring me. Once again, I think this will be the last chapter but I thought that the last two times also. Maybe third time's the charm. **

**Once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed. I love each and every one I get and they make my days just a little bit brighter. :)**

**This chapter took over my mind after reading this review: **

**_Sekhem_: This is good, although I don't think the story's over yet. I've watched all of the episodes so far, and I've noticed that Henry comes across as managing to have at least some control in any situation he gets dropped into, and to have come undone the way he did in this story would have to be devastating to him. My question is, how does he live with himself after that?**

**I hope this meets expectations. :)**

**Sinking Like Stone**

Henry woke up slowly, feeling exhausted but lucid. He wasn't sure how long it had been since the withdrawal started but he thought it might have been two or three days. He was lying in his own bed. Abe must have somehow managed to get him to his room. Henry had no memory of that.

He only lay there for a moment before he couldn't take it anymore. His mind and thoughts kept swirling around. He felt trapped. He felt like he was drowning. He had to move. He pushed back the covers and struggled into a sitting position.

He took a deep breath and felt the panic subside, followed quickly by self-loathing. He was a mess. Reduced to a quivering, quaking, train wreak of a man.

After two hundred years, Henry thought he could no longer be embarrassed. He was wrong. For anyone, even Abe, to see him so undone was horrifying to the normally so in-control man. Shame, another emotion he hadn't felt for some time, rolled through him.

He had spent almost his whole life studying the human body, and yet all of that knowledge had done nothing to help him control his own body as it had rebelled against him. Never had he felt so out of control and helpless. Never had he been such a slave to his own mind.

Most of the previous few days were blurred by pain and delirium but he could remember enough. He never wanted to go through that again.

He ran an unsteady hand through his hair. Even now he was still weak and shaky. Even now his body still wanted more of the drug. Would it ever stop? Would he ever stop feeling the tug of craving?

He let out a hitched breath as tears stung his eyes. He growled in frustration. Would his emotions ever stop being all over the place? He angrily swiped his hand across his eyes and stood unsteadily.

Once on his feet, he wasn't sure where to go. He couldn't leave the shop. He looked terrible. That wasn't the real reason he couldn't leave, though. He was afraid if he left the safety of those walls he would run to the first dealer he could find. That was the last thing he wanted, and yet, he wanted nothing more. That terrified him.

He couldn't leave the shop but he could no longer lay in bed with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Allowing himself to think was dangerous. It gave his mind the opportunity to dwell on how much he wanted to stick a needle into his arm.

He stood there for a long moment, trying to focus his mind enough to decide what to do with himself. He felt restless. He felt weak and tired. He felt... dirty. He needed a shower. A nice cleansing shower to wash away all of his problems. In the back of his mind he knew a shower would solve very little, especially where his mental state was concerned but it was something to do and it would make him feel better, physically at least.

He entered the bathroom but stopped short as his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. He tentatively stepped closer to the reflection, almost unable to believe the face he was seeing was his own.

He had dark circles under his eyes. His face was covered in scraggly stubble that did nothing to hide the paleness of his skin or the slightly sunken look to his cheeks. What was the most disturbing, though, was his eyes. They looked so haunted.

He looked himself in the eye and could see the craving staring back at him from the depths of his gaze. Like some monster that had coiled itself around his soul and refused to let go.

He spun away from the mirror and squeezed his eyes closed, his breaths coming quick and uneven. He rubbed his face with trembling hands and tried to turn his mind away from the dark thoughts.

It took him longer to calm down than he would have liked, but finally he was able to collect himself and get into the shower.

He didn't look in the mirror again.

The water was hot enough to almost burn and steam filled the bathroom. He braced his hands against the wall and let the water cascade over his head and down his back, wishing the water could wash away the last few days. The sound of the shower helped his mind go blank. He didn't think. He didn't feel. He just breathed.

When the water ran cold, he got out of the shower and dressed. He felt better. Not normal, but better. He walked out of the bathroom, passing the fogged up mirror on the way. He didn't stop to wipe it clear.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, he nearly ran into Abe who had a slightly worried expression on his face as he looked at Henry. They both stood there for a long moment without saying anything. Henry shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet Abe's gaze. He had never wanted to turn and flee quite so much as in that moment. When had things become so awkward between them?

It wasn't hard for Henry to come up with the answer to that particular question.

"How are you feeling?" Abe finally asked when the silence threatened to become too much.

"I'm..." Henry trailed off, knowing he couldn't say fine. He was so far from fine it was laughable. "...okay," he settled on instead.

"Good. Good," Abe said.

They lapsed into another less than comfortable silence. Neither one of them quite knew what to say.

"Abe, I..." Henry trailed off again.

"Ah, forget about it," Abe said lightly, waving off Henry's words like he usually did.

He started to turn away but Henry grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"No. I..." he paused, searching for the right words. "Thank you," he said, the words sounding woefully inadequate to his own ears.

It didn't matter, though. Abe could see everything Henry didn't know how to say shining in his eyes.

"Always," Abe said softly, reaching out and squeezing Henry's arm.

Henry dropped his gaze from Abe's as his eyes grew bright. He blinked quickly, trying to hold onto his unpredictable emotions. He had already embarrassed himself enough. He refused to break down in front of anyone, even Abe.

He hadn't counted on Abe doing something he hadn't done in a long time. He wrapped his arms around Henry in an increasingly rare embrace.

Any hope Henry had had of holding back his traitorous tears, evaporated in that moment.

"It's going to be okay," Abe said softly.

The conviction and promise in those words were all it took and Henry finally broke down.

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><p><strong>AN Please leave me a review and let me know if I did okay. :)**


	4. You Can Count On Me

**A/N I finally found time to write this! This is most definitely the last chapter for this story. The previous chapter was going to be the end but then a couple of people reviewed and made very good points about how I hadn't included Jo, and it sparked an idea for one last chapter. So I ended up including Jo and Hanson both in this chapter. I know a lot of people ship Jo and Henry (I do too) but I can't write romance to save my life so there's only friendship in this chapter. Anyway, on with the show! :)**

**Requested by _DJ Dubois_: I can see Henry struggling to regain control after an ordeal such as the one he'd gone through. Can't believe though he'd shut out (or be able to shut out) the police dept though. As much as he tries to be part of yet separate from them, Henry is a part of that unit (especially Jo). I'd like to have seen her in this story even as friends.**

**Requested by _Sekhem_: What happens when he tries to go back to work? He almost ran from his son. How is he going to react when he's faced with someone who isn't family? How is he going to react to seeing Jo again - especially if she was one of the people who rescued him?**

**You Can Count On Me**

"Are you sure about this?" Abe asked for what had to be the tenth time.

Henry rolled his eyes and smirked as he pulled on his coat.

"I'll be fine, Abe," he said with fond exasperation.

It had been three weeks since Henry had made it through the worst of his withdrawal. He still wasn't the same as he had been before and he doubted he ever would be, but he was much closer to what could be called normal than he had been in previous weeks. Over the last week, he had even gone back to work at the ME's office. At Abe's insistence, he had started off with just half days before going back to full time. Things had been going fine, no problems, no issues. At first it was nice, but now Henry found himself starting to get bored. Which was why when Jo called and asked him if he wanted to help on a case, he had jumped at the chance.

He hadn't seen Jo since before the withdrawal, but not for lack of trying on her part. More than once she had tried to come over but Abe had always headed her off, knowing that Henry didn't want to see anyone. Or more specifically, have anyone see him. Jo had called several times to check on him and Abe had always given her some kind of general reassurance to allay her worries somewhat and keep her from coming over and breaking their door down. It would be good to see her in person again and maybe put her mind at ease as well.

Abe worried about Henry constantly. And that was before the withdrawal. Henry was honestly doing better, though. He actually looked excited at the prospect of going out on a case. Maybe it would do him some good to get back to something normal and get his mind off of everything.

Abe watched as Henry studied himself in the mirror, gently rubbing at the dark circles still under his eyes as if he could wipe them away. Abe knew his father didn't want anyone to know what he had gone through. He didn't want them to see the evidence of it either. Abe wished Henry would open up more to people, especially Jo and Hanson. The two detectives had proven themselves to be Henry's friends. It had been too long since the immortal had had any real friends. They were good for him and Abe had told Henry repeatedly (especially over the last few weeks) that he needed to start trusting them more. Abe knew if Henry would just let them in, things would only get better. However, trust was not something that Henry gave easily.

Abe shook himself out of his thoughts as Henry finished his inspection in the mirror, finally giving up on his somewhat haggard appearance, and turned back to Abe.

"Well, I'm off."

"All right. Have fun," Abe said before wincing slightly.

That probably wasn't the best thing to say to someone who was going to a murder scene but Abe really didn't have a better way to put it and it actually kind of fit Henry anyway.

It must have been the right thing to say as Henry laughed out loud. It was the most genuine laugh Abe had heard from him in a while and it brought a smile to his own face.

"I'll see you later," Henry said.

"Bye," Abe called.

With a final wave, Henry left the shop.

**)()()(**

Henry took a deep breath of the crisp, refreshing air as he walked up the sidewalk. He could have taken a taxi, but the apartment that Jo had told him to meet her at wasn't that far, and Henry felt like walking. The weather was nice and he had hardly been outside lately. The fresh air would do him some good.

Besides, to be honest, as excited as he was to be going to a crime scene, he also wanted to delay it just a bit. He felt a bit uneasy at the thought of seeing Jo and the others again. It would be the first time he had seen any of the police personnel since everything had happened.

He knew he still looked a bit rough. He had lost some weight and still had some faint circles under his eyes. He knew he looked tired and worn. The withdrawal had been hard on him and it still showed. However, he was bound and determined to act like absolutely nothing had changed, when really everything had.

He plastered his trademark smile on his face and used his excitement to force a slight spring into his step and arrived at the crime scene like he had so many times before. If he acted like everything was normal then maybe it would be.

Of course Jo knew the truth. She and Hanson both did. They didn't even need to see the very obvious signs of what had happened to him. They had seen him when they rescued him. They had seen his dazed, half-lidded expression and called his name to no avail as he remained in the stupor the drugs had put him in. He had been so high he wasn't even aware that he had been rescued until after it had already happened. Jo and Hanson had both seen him like that and it wouldn't have taken much for them to figure out what would come next. They knew, but thankfully they hadn't seen it. They hadn't seen how low he had hit. Only Abe knew all the gory details and Henry was going to keep it that way.

Henry ducked under the police tape and walked right into the abandoned and run down apartment building. It wasn't hard to find the right room. He just followed the string of coming and going police men and women. However, just as he was about to enter the apartment where he assumed the body was, Jo stepped out into the hall and blocked his path.

He smiled at her, somehow hiding all the awkward nervousness that he now felt around anyone who knew what had happened to him. Jo looked at him worriedly and with sympathy. Henry tried not to let it show how much that bothered him. He didn't want worry or sympathy. He just wanted everything the way it was before. Before everything become so broken and complicated.

"Hey, Henry," Jo said. She sounded off somehow but Henry couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly. "Sorry, I tried to call but you had already left. It turns out we don't need you on this one after all."

"Oh." Henry tried not to let his disappointment show. He had been looking forward to being at a crime scene again. "Is there not a body after all?"

"No, there's a body, we're just uh..."

"What?"

"We were going to let Lucas take this one," Jo admitted reluctantly.

"Is he here?" Henry asked, feeling confused.

"No. We're taking the body to him at the morgue."

Henry wasn't sure what to think or feel. Jo calls him about a body but when he shows up, she tells him they're going to have Lucas take care of it? It honestly stung just a bit. It felt like they didn't need him or maybe they didn't trust his skill or knowledge anymore. Did they think he was damaged? Or unreliable? Did they think he was too fragile to work with them anymore?

The sadness was quickly replaced by anger. He was angry that his life was different now and he didn't know how to fix it. He hated that he was being treated differently, and he was fed up with it all.

"Well, I'm already here. I might as well take a look," he said, keeping his smile plastered on his face and most of the bite out of his tone.

Without waiting for Jo to reply, he stepped around her.

"Henry, wait!" Jo called but he ignored her and entered the room.

Instantly, his anger evaporated and he felt like he had been doused with cold water. He finally understood why Jo had been acting strangely and why she had tried to keep him away from this scene. She was trying to protect him.

Before, it never would have bothered him. In fact it hadn't the last time he had seen a similar crime scene. Now, however, things were different and the sight of the body of a young man with a needle still hanging out of his arm brought Henry up short and froze him in the doorway.

His mind barely even registered that there was a body attached to the arm that his gaze was glued to. All he could see was the needle stuck in the crook of the elbow. He hated himself for how much his mind suddenly wanted what had once been in that syringe. The cravings had gotten so much better but now they came roaring back with a vengeance. Henry knew that they would always be with him whether they were faint and distant in the back of his mind, or consuming every thought he had. It was something he would never get rid of. Sure the cravings, the need, might go dormant eventually. It might even stay that way for years, but at some point, five, fifteen, or fifty years down the road, something would happen. He would see something, hear something, think of something that would trigger it, and it would all come rushing back. Just like now.

He was only saved from his spiraling thoughts as someone stepped in between him and the body, blocking his view of the needle.

"Hey, Doc."

It took Henry far longer than he wanted, to focus on the person standing in front of him. Henry had no idea what his own face looked like, but it must have been a bad enough mixture of shock, horror, and longing, that when he finally looked up to meet Hanson's eyes, the detective felt the need to reach out and lay an, actually somewhat comforting, hand on his shoulder.

"Take it easy, Doc," Hanson said softly.

He knew. Just like Jo did. Henry had already known that, but he hadn't wanted them to see. It was too late now. All because he had had to get angry and rebellious instead of just leaving and going home like Jo had tried to get him to do.

He had thought he was finally okay again, but he wasn't. And now Hanson and Jo both knew it. Henry felt trapped. He couldn't breathe. The apartment was too small. There were too many people and he couldn't seem to pull his mask into place. He felt bare and open for all the world to see.

"I- I should go," he choked out in a strangled voice.

Then he turned and all but fled the room. He nearly ran right into Jo who was standing behind him and he didn't even want to think about what she must have just seen on his face and in his eyes.

He barely heard Jo and Hanson call after him as he all but ran from the building. He had to get away. He was falling apart and they couldn't see him. Not like that.

He very deliberately headed in the direction of the antique shop. He didn't trust himself to wander aimlessly around. Not right now. The thought of needles and highs was far too strong in his mind. There was a very distinct possibility that if he did not head straight home, he would end up doing something he would very much regret later.

The whole situation might not have been so bad if he had been prepared for it. The sight of the overdose (at least Henry was pretty sure from what he had seen that it really was just an overdose) shouldn't have hit him so hard. But it had taken him so off guard. It had blindsided him and left his mind spinning.

He couldn't give in to the cravings, though. If he did, he would never get his life back. If he gave in just once, he might become the emaciated, dead body in an abandoned apartment building or some back ally somewhere. Except, he wouldn't stay dead. He would come back to life every time he overdosed and continue on in the living nightmare that he would create for himself. If he didn't beat it now, it might not ever end, and that scared him.

Henry was so lost in his thoughts that he was startled when someone suddenly grabbed his arm. Henry usually wasn't a violent person but his frayed emotions only increased his fight or flight instinct and he spun around, nearly punching Hanson in the face.

"Whoa! Easy, Doc," Hanson said, letting go of Henry and raising his hands in surrender.

"Sorry," Henry mumbled lowering his fist. "You startled me."

Henry didn't wait for Hanson to say anything else. Instead he just turned and started walking again. It was incredibly rude and not something Henry would normally do, but this was so far from normal.

"Henry, wait!"

The words weren't unexpected, but the voice was. Henry had been expecting to hear Hanson's voice but instead, the voice that spoke was female. It was enough of a surprise that Henry paused and turned back around before he registered the voice as belonging to Jo.

Sure enough, Jo was standing next to Hanson and both detectives were looking at him worriedly. Henry almost turned around and started walking again but something made him pause just long enough for Jo to speak again.

"I didn't know when I called you. I just got a call that there was a body. I didn't know the details until I got there. By then you had already left the shop and I couldn't reach you. I'm sorry, Henry."

Henry sighed and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. "No, it's something I'm going to have to deal with eventually if I want to continue my job."

"But you shouldn't have had to face that your first crime scene back," Hanson said.

"Thanks... for trying to help," Henry said. They had tried to help. He supposed he should feel grateful for that at least. "I think I'm just going to go home now."

"No, you're not," Hanson said.

Henry's eyebrows rose in surprise at Hanson's firm tone that bordered on being an order.

"Come on," Hanson said before Henry could argue. He gently but firmly grabbed Henry's arm and pulled him in a different direction than the shop.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" Henry asked, trying and failing to shake off Hanson's grip.

"Just come on. Please," Jo said.

Henry gave up and let Hanson drag him down the sidewalk. He kept waiting for Hanson to let him go so he could make his escape but the detective must have known what he was thinking as he didn't let go. Jo, too, must have known as she fell into step on Henry's other side as if ready to grab him if he tried to make a break for it. Henry wasn't sure if he had ever felt quite so much like a prisoner before, and he had actually been imprisoned in his life.

They walked a couple of blocks before veering toward a business. Henry was more than a little surprised when Hanson led him into a mostly empty bar.

"I'm not sure what you have in mind, Detective, but I don't think I should trade one vice for another," Henry said, then almost winced at his words.

'Vice' was not the right word for what drugs had become to him. Addiction, dependence, those were the correct words, but somehow Henry couldn't bring himself to use them in reference to himself.

"Just sit down, Henry," Hanson said. "You don't have to order anything. We just needed a quiet place to talk to you."

Henry sighed and sat down at the bar. He was not looking forward to the coming conversation. Maybe he would have a drink after all.

"It's not that hard for us to figure out some of what you've probably been going through lately," Hanson said as he and Jo sat to either side of Henry.

Henry's jaw clenched and he stared resolutely at the bar.

"Look, Henry," Jo sighed. "We know you're a very private person, but we just want you to know that we're here for you. We don't think any less of you for what happened. You're only human and you didn't even choose this. It was done to you."

"Are we done now?" Henry asked. He just wanted to leave.

"What she's trying to say is we're your friends, Doc," Hanson said.

Henry's shoulders slumped. They were right. They were his friends and that changed everything. It had been so long sine Henry had had real friends that he wasn't sure how to act around them. For so long, he had distanced himself from people in a effort to keep his secret and to avoid being hurt. But Abe was right. Henry wasn't living. Not really. He had just been going through the motions for years now.

Finally, he scrubbed a hand over his face and spoke slowly.

"It's been... hard," he admitted, suddenly feeling very tired. "But I was getting better. I've been better lately. I just... when I saw... It all just came rushing back."

"Were you really headed home?" Jo asked softly.

Henry felt like maybe he should be angry at the implication of the question but it was actually valid.

"Yes. There was a very large part of me that wanted... but yes, I was headed home," Henry said, determination and certainty in his voice.

"Then you're doing a lot better than most people," Hanson said.

"I just..." Henry trailed off. He wasn't sure that he really wanted to admit this part out loud.

"What?" Jo gently prompted.

"I don't know if I'll always be able to resist it." he finally said. "I don't know if I'll hold out every time."

"That's what we're here for," Jo said. "For the times when you can't trust yourself, you can trust us."

"We've got your back," Hanson agreed. "We won't let you slip back into the drugs."

"Thank you," Henry said sincerely, finally meeting both of their gazes.

He couldn't do this alone. He had already known that, but trusting people with anything had always been hard for him. He had been burned too many times in his life. But that didn't mean that no one was worthy of being trusted. It was just hard to find the people who could. Somehow, though, Henry had managed to find two people who not only could be trusted but who had earned his trust, and without him even really noticing.

"By the way," Henry said, "I believe your dead body was just an overdose. No foul play."

"How do you- You know what, never mind. I need to stop being surprised how you know these things," Hanson said.

Henry laughed softly starting to look and sound more like himself again. "I'm not one hundred percent positive. You'll still need the autopsy, but I had a good enough look at him to be fairly sure he wasn't murdered."

The three of them sat for a short while longer, talking about normal things, the tension melting away and the atmosphere becoming lighter between them. They were about to leave when Jo's phone rang.

"We got another body. This one was definitely murder," Jo said, hanging up her phone. "You want to come on this one? Or do you just want to go back home?" she asked Henry.

"I think I'd like to accompany you if I could," Henry said after a moment.

"Consider it done," Jo said with a smile.

The two of them stood and started to leave but paused when they realized that Hanson hadn't moved from his seat.

"You coming Hanson?" Jo asked.

"I don't know why I should," Hanson said in a teasing tone. "Henry will just take one look at the body and have it solved."

"You can come along for moral support," Henry teased.

"Gee, thanks, Doc," Hanson said with a roll of his eyes.

"What are friends for?" Henry asked cheekily.

Jo laughed and Hanson shook his head but grinned as he stood and patted Henry on the back. The three of them left the bar, feeling more normal than they had for weeks. It wasn't perfect and things may never be exactly the same, but Henry was beginning to think maybe things could be better than before. One of the worst experiences of his life might just end up making his life better than it had been for some time.

Henry could practically hear Abe say 'I told you so.'

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>AN And there you have it. Please let me know what you think! :)**


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